


aerial high tide

by kimaracretak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/F, Sexual Content, Vampires, a lil bit of consensual voyeurism, force-sensitives are vampires: the fic, let rey eat: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Rey thinks Jakku prepared her for more than the Reistance knows, but keeps quiet for now. It's easier at first, when there are plenty of mundane hungers for her body to attend to. But soon enough she finds herself running her tongue over her newly sharp teeth, wondering.Of sharp-toothed vampires and summer nights, or: Rey is hungry, Amilyn and Leia are more than willing to help





	aerial high tide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meritmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/gifts).



> She knows her grief is a beast  
> That kills from inside  
> She lifts the souls from their home  
> At _aerial high tide_.  
>  — 'Loreley', Lord of the Lost
> 
> nina, best and belovedest, you did ask
> 
> (also fills my genprompt_bingo square 'vampires')

Rey's teeth hurt.

Doctor Kalonia says it's normal, nothing to worry about even though it's a bit late for her teeth to be sharpening now. "One more thing Jakku didn't prepare you for," she says during the first proper medical examination Rey's ever had, as if her teeth were just one more part of her body glorying in having a proper amount of food, like her muscles that are bulking out and her hair that's growing longer and shinier.

Rey thinks Jakku prepared her for more than the Reistance knows, but keeps quiet for now. It's easier at first, when there are plenty of mundane hungers for her body to attend to. But soon enough she finds herself running her tongue over her newly sharp teeth, _wondering_.

 

**

 

Kalonia promises she won't tell anyone but the General about Rey being ... _different_ , and then only after reassuring her that Leia would understand. Rey bites the inside of her cheek and wonders what in all the stars Leia Organa — princess, senator, general — would understand about butchering a sand rat on your workbench and loving the blood more than the meat. Kalonia strokes the veins turning darker crimson under Rey's tanned skin and asks, quietly, "Did you really think you were the only one?"

"I've always been alone," Rey says honestly, but she remembers Kylo Ren's eyes, dark with adoration and a need for everything but what he asked her for, and thinks that maybe that isn't true anymore, in more ways than she's realised.

Kalonia's smile is sad as she packs away her tools. "You Force users," she sighs. "You'll never really be alone. For better ... or worse."

It's only then that Rey notices — _scents_ — the fear beneath Kalonia's melancholy, beneath her assurances of normality. It stirs something deep in her belly, the same sort of thrill of the hunt she used to get when she found a mostly-untouched wreck in the Graveyard.

 _Not now_ , she tells herself. _Not her, not yet_. Instead, she smiles with her aching teeth and leaves to find the General.

 

**

 

General Organa opens her door before Rey has done more than lift her hand to press the chime. She's dressed for sleep, in a long white nightgown edged with deep red and black stitching, and it's only then that Rey notices the corridor lights are dimmed for the base's artificial night.

Only then that she realises that the General smells of blood.

 _She'll understand_ , Kalonia had said, and, _you Force-sensitives_ , and —

Rey's other senses have been sharpening along with her teeth, but it's only now that her understanding catches up. "I'm sorry," she says thickly, suffocating under the roaring of blood in her ears. "I should — I didn't realise it was so late."

"Oh, Rey," the General says, and then she smiles, the first real smile Rey's ever seen from her, and Rey sees so much of Kylo in her that she can't breathe.

"Invite her in, Leia sweetheart," a woman's voice says for somewhere in the room's shadowed depths of the room before Rey can come up with a response.

Over the General's shoulder she can just about make out the shape of a woman in the bed, glimmering a soft silvery-purple like stars in the farthest reaches of space. Her breasts are bare where the sheets have tangled around her waist, and Rey is struck speechless by the incongruous domesticity of the scene, a whole galaxy separating this room from the rest of the austere base.

"I'm ... interrupting," she says, and her voice sounds like it's fighting through a kilometre of sand to be heard. "General. I should ..."

 _Go_ , she is going to say, but Leia steps forward and envelops her in another hug, just like on the tarmac except now she smells of blood rather than engine grease, and there's so much less clothing between them, and Rey's teeth hurt so _badly_.

"Stay," Leia says into her shoulder. "You should come inside and stay."

Rey doesn't know how to refuse her.

 

**

 

There's fabrics on the wall, rippling in the hot D'Qar breeze. Rey's limbs are heavy, her heartbeat slow. Despite the night air prickling across her skin, she's hot, hotter than the heat of Leia's hand in hers could account for.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Leia says as they walk the infinite number of steps towards the bed. "For assuming you knew about this. That you would be prepared."

"I knew some of it," Rey says. She picks at her wraps with her free hand. "I've just never ... it's never felt like this before. It's never been so much, and I've never had to —"

"It's alright," Leia says, and her words' embrace is just as comforting as her arms were on the tarmac. "We're here. We'll show you everything, won't we, Amilyn?"

Amilyn takes Leia's hand, kisses it gently before smiling up at Rey. "Of course we will. You have so many wonderful things to learn."

Rey lets her hand fall from Leia's grip as Leia returns to the bed, settles herself between Amilyn's spread legs and leans back against her chest. Amilyn's hands come up to bury themselves in Leia's hair, gently combing the moonlight-silvered tresses from root to tip. They fit together perfectly, so perfectly that Rey wonders for a wild moment what exactly she's doing in their room.

But she flattens her tongue against her lengthening teeth, inhales the coppery tang of blood in the air as Leia's inhumanly red lips meet Amilyn's in a deep kiss, sees the flash of sharp white as Amilyn's mouth slips slick and sweet over Leia's, and she knows that somewhere in their bed is a space for her, if she wants it.

Knows, for the first time, that she is home.

 

**

 

Rey blinks, and silver shadows of the room have grown deeper in even that time. She unwinds the wraps around her forearms in a daze, watching Amilyn and Leia as they continue to kiss among the pillows and scarves of the bed. The familiarity, the affection, is all so profound that Rey would almost be tempted call them chaste if not for how Amilyn had pulled Leia's nightgown up around her waist and was gently stroking between her legs. In the dark she can't see the details of the delicate dance of Amilyn's fingers, but Leia's pleased, desperate whimpers fill the night, blending with the fuzzy, languid feeling wrapping itself around her.

Even the sharp ache of her teeth is hardly enough to ground her. She needs .... she needs them to touch her, in a way she never knew she'd been missing. She needs their instructions, their understanding, their skin and blood.

"Show me," she says, and they both turn to look at her, eyes alight. Rey shivers, unused to being the center of such attention, such desire, so alike and so unalike all she'd ever known.

She wants to be with them, blood and Force and whole, slick fingers and hungry teeth and clever tongues. She wants a space with them, whatever they want to give to the outsider who knows too much about their insides.

"See?" Amilyn says, and bends down and closes her lips around the tender skin at the juncture of Leia's neck and shoulder. For a moment Rey thinks it's just a kiss, and then Leia tips her head back, moaning in pleasure, and Rey sees Amilyn's teeth, long and sharp and buried in Leia's neck even as her hand reaches out, fumbles for Rey's.

Rey chokes on a gasp, all the norms of Jakku propriety warring with their obvious invitation.

With the dulling ache in her teeth, the desire igniting in the pit of her stomach and coiling around a sort of hunger that she hasn't yet learned how to resist.

She stumbles closer, one step and then two and then her knees are pressed against the bed and her head is spinning with the scent of blood — Leia's blood, Leia's blood in Amilyn's mouth — and she sucks her lip under her long, long teeth. "I'm — " she starts, "I've never — Will you show me more?"

"Of course," Leia says breathlessly and Amilyn hums wordlessly from where she's still suckling at her neck. "Here." Rey watches, entranced, as Leia interlaces her fingers with those of Amilyn's free hand and guides her wrist to Rey's mouth. Her whole body is trembling with the effort of keeping still, of not tearing into Amilyn's wrist.

It's new like her teeth, new like nothing ever was on Jakku, and she flicks her tongue out, tastes sweat and salt and life on Amilyn's skin and Leia's blood in the air.

Rey has always found life beautiful. This is something she doesn't have words for.

"Go on," Leia says, and somewhere in Rey's desire-fogged brain she wonders how Leia is still managing words. Rey isn't sure she could speak even if she wanted to, even if she though she could open her mouth without biting down. "It's safe with us, Rey."

Amilyn presses her wrist more insistently against Rey's lips, and Rey's tongue darts out to lick the pale, veined skin before her mind can catch up. If this is a dream — mustn't it be a dream? — for the first time, Rey is sure she doesn't want to wake.

Amilyn's pulse is too fast, too alive, to be any sort of desert-dream. Rey watches the hypnotic flow of blood under skin, so like and so unalike rivulets of sand down the dunes of her home, and feels her whole world narrow down to the answering throb of her own pulse.

"Please." Rey starts at the sound of Amilyn's voice, whisper-soft in the night yet just enough to draw her back to the room. Rey's gaze travels up the pale expanse of her arm to meet Amilyn's shining eyes. Blood drips from her mouth back down to Leia's, and they both watch Leia lick it from her lips, her own eyes still closed as Amilyn's free hand plays between her legs, soft circles winding her up so that the scent of her arousal is nearly as strong as that of their blood.

"Please, Rey," Amilyn continues. "Denying yourself like this only hurts."

Rey knows too well the vicious cycles of desert hunger, how days taken off from scavenging to recover only lead to fewer rations and more illnesses in later months. She doesn't want to deny this new hunger and, she realises, for the first time, she doesn't have to.

Rey opens her mouth, and bites down.

Blood floods her mouth sweeter than water, and above her Amilyn groans, low and pleased. The taste of it is overwhelming, so much so that it nearly fades entirely, lost amidst the taste, the touch, after so long feeling only sun and sand. She hardly notices as moves onto the bed — on her own or by their wish, she'll never know, and it doesn't matter because she's curled into Amilyn's side now, still lapping at the slow trickle of blood.

Amilyn turns her head, brushes her lips against Rey's temple, and Rey feels the molten smear of blood left behind. "Feeling better, sweet girl?" she asks, and Rey can only mumble something satisfied in reply. She feels ... full, for the first time she can remember. Full and safe.

Dimly, she can feel Leia's fingers tighten around her wrist, hear her shuddering gasps as she comes. She wants to watch, wants to see Leia radiant and undone, but her eyelids are too heavy to lift. Amilyn's hand is in her hair. and Rey finds that she rather likes the thought that there must be so much blood there now.

Rey kisses the nearest bit of someone else's skin she can reach from where she lies — Amilyn's stomach, she thinks, as she lets her lips wander. It's only when her lips meet the waistband of Amilyn's pajamas that she realises her teeth don't hurt.

"Sleep, Rey," Leia says, as if she's sensed Rey's confusion. She sounds as tired as Rey feels. "We can talk about this in the morning.

The pang of curiosity lessens as Leia speaks, and Rey lets herself relax into their presence, their touch. She's never really looked forward to a morning before.


End file.
